


You Plus Me Equals Fireworks

by floodlitesq



Series: we met eyes and i was like 'what the hell' [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Hansol's Family, Making Out, New Year's Eve, New Year's Party, Reader's Family - Freeform, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, hecc, kinda? i dont know, reader has a pretty big family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 06:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15382509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floodlitesq/pseuds/floodlitesq
Summary: If fate fucks you over more than your life already has, there's hell to pay for someone out there. Even if they're at a very pleasant New Year's Eve party.-(In which Reader meets Hansol in a situation on New Year's Eve that's found literally nowhere but in the fanfics.)





	You Plus Me Equals Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> possible titles going through my head while writing this:  
> \- auld lang sign a guest book and go HOME  
> \- auld lang sign my phone case? pleasE?
> 
> it might be july but i miss new year season so hERE HAVE THIS  
> enjoy!! ;-)

_You know what? The candy canes on the mantelpiece aren't actually that tacky at all._

That's your initial thought as you step into the hotel that you're going to be spending the foreseeable future in.

In accordance with everlasting tradition, your family- your parents, your younger sister, your grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins (give or take a few), some random family friends, and, of course, the legend that everyone knows to be you- has bundled up warm in the icy December air and made a journey to some fancy hotel to spend their New Year together at a party with their beloved extended family.

You, for one, love it. 

But put your sister and your cousins together? Yeah, that's a recipe for disaster. 

Already, that insufferable little wench (read: the light of your life, you'd die for her stupid little face) has run off with two or three younger cousins and left you alone with swarms of affectionate aunties, uncles, grandparents and- God help you- your parents. You really,  _really_ hate being the firstborn sometimes.

Even worse is the fact that your soulmate timer is set to go off about an hour from now, at around 11:54pm.

 _Congrats, bitch!_ You think dryly. _You're going to meet your soulmate in the most cliched way possible!_

Your best guess is that you're going to meet them here, which won't bode well because the only people remotely close to your age at these kinds of parties tend to be toddlers or small children. Or maybe, if you're slightly more lucky, you'll have left early and be in the car- but wait, it's a half hour's drive here and social expectations won't let you leave two hours early... What if you get into a car crash? What if your soulmate is a policeman? Or a paramedic? Then they'll be like, fifty times your age, that's AWFUL, your soulmate can't be some old man or lady-?!

"Take your hands away from your mouth," your mother reprimands gently, snapping you out of your reverie. "You know that a woman's mark of beauty is her hands, and you're going to ruin your nails if you bite them so much." 

You shoot a look at her, smiling, and make as if to shove your entire fist in your mouth. Just like you anticipated, your mother gasps slightly over-exaggeratedly, leaving you to cackle like the malevolent little gremlin that you are.

"Mama, please, I would never ruin my lip gloss. Do you have  _any_ idea how long it took for me to put it on?! Especially when you were banging on the bathroom door for me to come out?" 

Your mother rolls her eyes good-naturedly. You continue, smirking- "-and besides- isn't it enforcing patriarchal beauty standards if the mark of attractiveness in a woman is, say, her hands? Why isn't it her intelligence or her outlook on life? You know what, what's the mark of beauty in a MAN?? It's surely not his shoulders or something? You can't possibly exp-"

But your mother has already sighed exasperatedly, smoothed your hair back from your forehead lovingly and moved away to greet your great aunt, leaving a cloud of expensive perfume behind her. Mission success. 

While you revel in your victory, one of your cousins- Maria, the one closest in age to you- calls your name.

"Hey, we're going into the party room! Do you want me to save you a seat next to me at the table?!" 

Bless her little heart, she's so considerate, even when in your enchanting little sister's company... Honestly, you think that the genes were divided unfairly. That stupid, sweet little sibling of yours was born with the looks of a goddess and the exact same disposition as a Labrador. Then again, being the ripe old age of ten, she hasn't exactly had to face the horrors of acne and teenage anxiety you've been through...

"Are you coming or not?!"

Ah. 

"Yeah, I'm on my way!" You call, and begin to wrestle through the throngs of relatives clawing at you with about as much love as an army of cartoon grandmothers. 

"Hi, Tante- ah yeah, Angie, how've you been-! Oh wow, Auntie, she's gotten so big- haha, yup, I'm just trying to get to the door- oh wow, thank you!"

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, you guess. You've reached the door of the party room.

One step inside, and you pause. It's... Absolutely breathtaking. 

(And, y'know. Massive.)

The round tables are adorned with silver tablecloths; the centrepieces are giant glass bowls filled with sprigs of holly and red berries and branches coated in silver glitter; the walls of the room are elegantly draped with fairy lights and banners that glint softly in the shine of the chandelier overhead; there's a kind of stage at the front where the DJ stands, her turntables decorated with silvery tinsel and fake icicles, and best of all, there's your name written in beautiful calligraphy on a card that feels as soft as velvet marking your place at the table. 

Your cousin is already in her seat, grinning expectantly as you sit down gingerly beside her, afraid to crush the bold red Christmas cracker balanced on top of your delicately folded napkin.

"Get here okay?" You tease, pulling one of her intricately-curled locks gently. Bouncing back into its place, it gleams silver from the fairy lights on the walls; in slight disbelief, you snort at the sight. 

Jesus Christ, what is this, a shitty New Year fanfic or something?

Looking around the room, you see a surprising amount of people close to your age, and dare you even express the thought, some of them are actually attractive. Your eyes comb over the tables beside and then behind, pretending you're looking for a relative. There's a cute boy at table two- black hair, wide blue eyes- and wow, something of a bronzed goddess at table fourteen, that dress is KILLER-

It's not until your gaze reaches the side of the room opposite you till you lock onto a pair of unnerving chestnut eyes that seem to pierce straight into your soul, burning right into you. Caught like a deer in the headlights, some kind of unnatural urge deep down forces you to keep eye contact no matter how much you'd like to blink and look away rapidly and pretend it never happened. You take in shining auburn hair, glowing skin, a defined nose. You take in a jawline so sharp it could cut diamonds, slightly-parted lips that make your heart beat with a peculiar, erratic rhythm, and best of all... Best of all, a pair of gorgeous, russet-toned eyes that  _does something,_ something that's enoughto make you inhale sharply and rub at your wrist because all of a sudden your timer feels like it's on fire and it  _hurts,_  it hurts like hell, and you have no idea what's going on.

You can't take it any more. You tear your gaze away.

Eyes locked on the floor and hand clutched around your wrist, you pant as quietly as you can. What the hell just happened?! Who was that guy?!

"Wanna go explore?" Maria asks you, oblivious to your silent upheaval. Gathering yourself, you nod sagely, half because you want to get away from that strangely exhilarating stare, and also because what kind of New Year party would this be if the two of you didn't comb the venue for suitable places to take ridiculous photos in?

"All right, just tell your mama. I'll be at the door."

Rubbing your timer gently, you stand up, enjoying the feeling of your dress swishing around your legs, and make your way back outside despite the look following your every move that makes your back stiffen with a thousand electric tingles and your knees shake as if you're about to collapse. 

-

"Listen up, you precocious little fucker, either you give me my phone back and we go back to the buffet or I'm going to crush you with my bare hands."

You. Are. LIVID.

Four thousand photos after you arrived in the bathroom, your dearest little baby cousin wanted to take a selfie on her own. You, the OBVIOUSLY kinder of the pair, granted her your phone, not anticipating that the wicked little bitch would dart off with it in hand and instigate what must be the chase of the year. She's been rampaging around the bathroom and the staircase leading up to it for what must have been twenty or so minutes now; in her flats and delicate little dress, she's at a clear advantage to you, despite your wearing a comfortable pair of Converse (you wanted to make a statement, all right) because you're clad in something that requires both hands to hold up lest you trip over and fall flat on your face. 

Voice breaking, you sit down on the nearest step to you.

"Please. I promise I won't try to stab you with my dessert spoon once we get back to the table."

Maria grins and flounces back down to rest next to you. 

"Okay!" 

And she hands you back your phone with a little flick of her wrist.

You almost sob. "THANK YOU!"

She helps to haul you up as you stick your hands in the air, weeping.

"I-I just missed her so much, y'know? Like, it was so awful to spend so much time without her, I really just- I don't know- can't live without her, my sweet baby, oh-"

Your cousin sticks a hand over your mouth and frogmarches you back to the dining room. You fight the urge to lick her hand because hey, you're not four years old. You're better than that.

_Don't do it, you fucking gremlin._

(You don't. Thank the lord.)

She lets you go just as you reach the doors and you allow her to go through first because all of a sudden you're remembering the boy from before and the way he looked at you, the way he looked, the way you looked at him, the  _way he looked at you with those damn eyes_  and oh God, your wrist is burning again and you allow yourself to sneak a furtive glance at it because what if something has changed?

To some weird mix of horror and elation, you find that the time left on it has been cut almost entirely, leaving only three and a half minutes left. 

"HOLY SHIT," you almost shriek, and clap your hand over your mouth rapidly. You're in luck though; Maria is already miles ahead, seated at the table already, and it's likely that nobody else heard you over the sound of that really famous Pumped Up Kids remix. What a bop. 

Making your way over to the table and trying not to look up at the guy from before because you can already feel  his stare locked onto you again, you slide into your seat next to Maria, just about to ask her if she wants to go to the buffet where most of the rest of your family is. However, she beats you to it:

"Don't look now, but there's a really,  _really_ fit guy on the table on the other side of the room and I swear he keeps looking at you!"

You laugh uncomfortably. "Mimi, we've talked about this, you can't just try set me up with every guy you see and/or find attractive-"

She cuts you off excitedly- "-he's going to the buffet! Come on, come on, what if he's your soulmate, what if you fall in love!! We need to go now, get up, get up!"

With so much force that it feels as if your arm's being torn out of its socket, Maria yanks you out of your chair and almost sprints to the buffet. 

"Are you even actually hungry?!" you exclaim. She stops dead.

"If anything gets in the way of me and those roast potatoes, I'm going to cut a bitch," she deadpans. Then, almost comically, her expression resumes its bright, bouncy light and she continues to lead you towards the buffet like an over-excited puppy.

-

The two of you end up in a long, long queue. 

You're sandwiched in between Maria and some random guy from table seven and it is, suffice to say, incredibly uncomfortable.

However, the food smells delicious and the steam curling from the various displays makes your mouth water. 

Just as you think that your cousin has lost the guy with  _the eyes_ from before, she lets out a squeal. 

"There he is!" 

 _He_ is innocently trying to spoon roast potatoes onto the plate of a girl next to him from the other side of the room. Oddly enough, the one he's holding for himself is completely empty.

Your heart sinks. A girl.

Probably his girlfriend, because why else would he be helping her? Why else would his own plate be empty? Obviously, he's chivalrous and kind and puts the needs of others before his own, which is funny because then he probably would have cared about you had he known you, why does your fucking heart  _ache_ so much, why is your wrist burning, it's not like he's your soulmate-

Maria lets out a hiss beside you, interrupting your lovesick soliloquy. "The potatoes!" 

And then the crazy bitch stalks straight into the vegetable section, leaving you scurrying in her wake. 

So much for being the older cousin. You follow her wherever she goes. 

As soon as the two of you reach the vegetable buffet, your cousin is clutching her laden plate with apparent fury, seemingly ready to throw down over roast potatoes. You, on the other hand, are moping as subtly as you can with an empty plate and a timer that has forty, thirty-nine, _thirty-eight_ _seconds left holy shit what do you do?!_

Neither of you are expecting a girl's voice to cut through the din of the room.

"Hey, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I love your dresses so much!" 

Maria pivots around and you look up in shock.

In front of you is the girl that  _he_ was helping, a bright smile fixed on her face and hand tucking her hair behind her ear carefully. You plaster a convincing smile on your face and inject as much enthusiasm necessary into your voice as you speak.

"Ahh, thank you so much! Your dress is absolutely gorgeous too, you look fantastic!"

The girl beams. Her face glows, and your heart sinks even more. She's truly deserving of a guy like him if she's this beautiful.

Maria chimes in. "Where'd you get it from?"

The girl smiles more. You don't know how it's possible, but she does it anyway. "Oh, I got it from Chi Chi! Have you heard of it-?" 

Your little cousin gasps. It seems all of her spud-induced rage has evaporated. "Me too! I'm Maria, by the way!" She introduces you as well, and you smile as she says your name. 

The girl tugs on the arm of  _the guy_ behind her, and he turns around to face the two of you. His gaze meets yours for a fleeting second and in that instant, your heart rate spikes. You drop your gaze to the ground, biting your cheeks and desperately fighting the urge to laugh and cry and die and kiss him all at the same time.

"I'm Sofia! This is Hansol, he's my brother."

Hold the fuck up. 

_Brother?_

A relief so powerful washes over you that tears fill your eyes and you let out a breathy laugh, casting your eyes upwards, he's not hers, it's possible that he could be yours, this is the best day ever, he doesn't belong to her- and then quickly, you realise how strange you're being. He isn't yours. You don't love him. What is wrong with you?

But then he  _speaks_ and oh God, it's like a choir is singing right next to you or something and your heart starts racing once again, your knees shake and your wrist rattles with urgency,  _seven, six, five, four-_

"It's great to meet you."

His hand stretches out in a friendly handshake and you

**_three_ **

lift yours as well

**_two_ **

in order to

**_one_ **

meet his. 

_Zero._

Your hands touch and it's like electricity is arcing up through your wrist, your arm, your neck, head, mouth and all you can do is squeeze tightly and stare into those endless, chocolate brown depths with your lips slightly parted and revel in the feeling that  _he's yours, he's yours, you saw his timer go off, he's yours, he's your soulmate, yours alone, and nobody else can have him-_

"Are those- they are! Sofia, they have baby corn here!"

"What? Are you serious? Let's go!"

Maria and Sofia seem to be best friends already, despite having met all of one minute ago. You and Hansol are still staring at each other, hands clasped, open-mouthed and incredulous, before you snap back to reality and tear your hand away from his. 

"Y-yeah. It's nice to meet you too."

Sofia looks between you with concern.

"Hansol, I'm gonna go check out the buffet with Maria here. You gonna be okay without me?" She notices you still slightly shell-shocked and giggles, taking it for confusion. "He probably doesn't want me telling you this, but he's kind of shy."

He speaks again. His voice alone makes your knees weak.

"We'll be fine, Sofi, don't worry."

And then the two girls prance off, chattering at the top of their lungs about the best seasoning for baby corn. 

The two of you are alone, staring at each other once again.

_Your heart feels like it's about to fucking burst._

"Do, uh," Hansol says, rubbing the back of his neck, "do you wanna go somewhere a little less crowded?" 

You speak almost immediately, breathless and eager. 

"Yes."

And then you reprimand yourself because you must have sounded absolutely ridiculous, fucking  _dumbass-_

But his smile makes up for it. 

-

"Do you normally walk this fucking fast?" You gasp, breathless from the speed at which Hansol led you out of the buffet.

He laughs nervously, parting those God-awful gorgeous lips of his and all of a sudden, you're not entirely sure you're unable to breathe because of over-exertion or because he's right in front of you.

"I just- I kind of- uhhhh, it was kind of really, really hard to try to keep myself from- I don't know, doing _something_ when I saw you for the first time before."

He looks at you again, smile falling to a kind of half-smirk that makes you want to melt on the spot but also kind of makes you want to drag him right down with you. 

There's silence for a few moments while you stand up straighter and catch what you can of both your breath and your dignity, fixing the strap of your dress. You don't miss the way Hansol watches the movement with his eyes burning once again, searing a path across your collarbones, ghosting past the curve of your neck outstanding against your hair. They flicker from your jaw to your lips, remaining fixed there for a tantalising moment before meeting your gaze, wide and glowing and trained on him in absolute wonder; filtering through the silence, you hear the first few beats of Somebody Else by The 1975 breaking through the tension in the room, and you almost smile because you know he'll never be somebody else's.

He's yours.

He says your name softly, and you want to cry because fuck it, he's beautiful, this moment is beautiful, everything is beautiful-

"Can I kiss you?"

Your breath hitches.

"W-what?"

"Can I? Kiss you, I mean? I really want to kiss you right now,  _God,_ you're so gorgeous, I fucking can't, p-please just _let me_ -"

You cut him off. 

"Do it. Please."

And then he smiles at you, straight at you with those  _eyes_ , and it feels like you're dying because your heart hurts so much, you love him so much, everything just feels fucking right and like it was meant to be forever.

This is the best thing in the world. 

_He's the best thing in the world._

His hands meet your waist, your arms wind around his neck- _he's so close to you, so close-_ and his lips only hesitate for a second before they meet yours for the first time.

 

Your mind goes blank. 

 

It's-

It's indescribable.

All you know is that he's pressed to you like you're his lifeline and he's drowning in you or maybe it's the other way round and you don't fucking  _care,_ neither of you cares because you both know that this was meant to be. That his mouth, moving with yours, fits there like that's where it was always meant to be. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, your arms around his neck and hands threaded in his hair (it's so  _soft_ ) were _meant to be._  That any time spent apart from you, or any time spent away from him is like hell on earth because you can't even fathom life without him any more. You don't know how you lived before you met him. How could living ever have been so full before without him? How could you possibly have survived without this giddy, lemonade-glass fizz and happiness swirling around your head and your heart and every bone in your body because you've found him, he's found you, you're together now and that's all that matters. Nobody can break the two of you apart. 

Your head dips down to Hansol's shoulder, lips resting lightly on his neck. With a slight tingle of surprise, you find that your hands are clenched in his hair, not enough to hurt, but still enough for you to gasp and release him immediately.

"Ah- did I hurt you? Are you all right?"

Hansol groans as you shift slightly.

"D-don't worry about me, I'm fine," he gasps, hugging you tighter.  You stop moving, noticing just how tightly you're pressed against him, and your face bursts into flames.

"H-hansol?" 

He groans again, pressing his face into the curve of your neck; you shudder as his lips move against it. "Yeah?"

"Are you doing okay?" 

" _Fuck_ , you even smell amazing, how is this po- what? What, no, yeah, I'm great, are you-"

His head shoots upwards to look you, flustered and yet beaming at him with lips that are too bruised to match your innocent smile. Realisation breaks across his face like the sun rising over the horizon.

He unhooks his arms from around you, backing away, apologising rapidly.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I think I got too carried away, I'm so sorry, are you all right?! Did I make you uncomfortable at all? I'm such a dumbass!"

"Hansol," you say quietly, taking his hand. He looks at you with tear-filled eyes.

"Are you okay?" he says again, searching your face earnestly.

"I'm okay. I loved that, you know," you say in the same tone. "And I don't want to be too, y'know, _forward_ or anything, but I really, _really_ love you."

"I love you too," he replies immediately, voice soft and filled with so much emotion it makes your heart ache. "So fucking much."

From the corridor, the opening chords of a very familiar song rises through the walls. Hansol looks at you in shock. 

"Is that-"

"Auld Lang Syne," you confirm. You can't stop grinning at him. "Happy New Year to us, huh?"

He pulls out his phone to check the time and laughs in disbelief, shoving it back into his pocket.

"I can't believe this. Happy New Year to you too, babe."

You tilt your head at him coyly.

"So, do we have plans for another New Year's kiss or-"

You don't even have to finish your sentence.

Winding your arms around his neck once again as he presses you to the wall, Hansol's hands find their way to your face and you allow yourself a dizzy smile as his lips meet yours for the second time.

There's no other place you'd rather be.

-

**(extra)**

Hand in hand, the two of you stagger back into the party room, giggling at each other. You keep trying to fix his hair, but the insufferable bastard insists on trying to grab your arms and hug you instead.

"Hansol!"

You both stop immediately, caught red-handed. Or maybe it's red-lipped in this case, because reflecting the fairy lights and the chandelier, it turns out that your lipgloss is smeared all over both of your faces.

_F u c k._

Maria catches on immediately and stands straight up on her chair and starts fucking  _clapping,_ the absolute plonker.

( _You adore her really.)_

However, with a livid gaze searing two holes in your forehead, your mother looks absolutely infuriated.

_D o u b l e   f u c k._

It seems that the two of you have a lot of explaining to do.  

**Author's Note:**

> last year someone played their bagpipes till 2am and no matter how loudly i blared my rain sounds i could still hear them. please don't be that asshole who plays their bagpipes till 2am, especially if you live in a small neighbourhood.  
> cheers,  
> rii x


End file.
